At a recent stroll by the
Hoboken pier area, no ocean-going ships were observed bobbing lazily
in the slips and no loading gear clanked noisily. All was
vacant and quiet except for the faint cry of sea
gulls and the eerie horn of a small ferry boat. One could only
imagine the Zamzam having been berthed in one of the slips. And
on one of those piers of stone, bricks, and mortar, in 1941 the Zamzam
passengers had stepped along to the Zamzam's gangplank, eager to board
and be on their way to far-away Africa.
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